Running: As elementary as it gets. We run from point A to point B. Or, in the case of Boston Marathon, point H for Hopkinton to point B for Boston. The winner, whoever runs the fastest. Period. No judges subtract points for bad form. No points at all. We don't check other runners, hit or pass any ball. No tiny white one to tap into a hole. No leather-covered one to bat or dunk. Nor any puck to slap. No one double-teams us. No referees call fouls. We don't trip or tackle or punch one another or box a runner out. Ladies and gentlemen in every way, we are a team of one. We even share cups of water with our opponents. Anyone can enter as long as you run that qualifying time. Tall or short, four foot eight or six foot eight, it doesn't matter. A set of lungs and legs is all that is required-or, now, a way to propel your wheelchair. Yet in this very simplicity lies the answer to why our sport is so elegant, rewarding and ever-inspiring. We compete against ourselves and everyone has the same scorekeeper: the stopwatch. If you set a world or state record, someone might take that away. When you finished Boston no one could ever take that away from you. The runners at the start of Boston are as unique as the snowflakes that fall from the sky. They come from every state and all over the world. Each carry their dreams and goals in their hearts. Thousands of miles trained, just for the privilege to cross this simple white line. Don't bother building us a billion-dollar stadium or Astrodome. It won't fit our millions of fans who push and shove for a free front-row seat. Public roads are all we require. Our fans cheer as loudly for the front runners as the middle of the pack to the last runners. Cute coeds at Wellesley College kiss any guy - no matter how good or bad-looking. On Heartbreak Hill if you falter and walk, strangers will scream, yell, and force you to keep going. You simply cannot quit, they won't let you. At Boston College, students will become your best friend and pass you a beer. Little kids hold their hands out for hours for a fingertip high five or to pass out an orange slice. Now you know why runners dream of running Boston. Now you know why we run. After you have finished, please take a few minutes to write a review for my book. Many thanks. Mike * * * *
Boston Qualifier is a must-read for runners of all ages and talents. It will inspire you to strap on your running shoes and head out the door for a long run. Or, even start your quest to qualify fo